Cheers
by soda-me
Summary: A long-planned sequel to "Partners". One year after the first story, picks up from Marlene's perspective as she copes with a crisis in her own life and runs into her old English partner. Again, no romance happening here, folks, strictly friendship.


**Author's Note: A few years ago, I was a voracious **_**Outsiders **_**fan. I latched onto FanFiction, and wrote over a dozen one-shots and stories about my favourite greasers. I loved it, and as long as the ideas kept coming, I kept writing. I'm not sure what happened after I wrote my last story, **_**Partners**_**, back in 2007. Maybe I got sidetracked by a few others fics that remained stuck in limbo (and still are—my apologies), or just moved on to other pursuits, such as original stories instead of fan fiction. Anyway, while I did begin one fic for a different "fandom", I haven't written anything about **_**The Outsiders **_**in nearly three years. But there has always been one idea, tapping on the windowpane of my brain, you might say, waiting to be written. It's really only one sentence, but it pops into my mind every so often, in Marlee's voice, my somewhat reluctant Soc from **_**Partners**_**. So here I am, taking that sentence and building a story around it, continuing the story one year after the first one. If you haven't read that one yet, I'd suggest starting there. And I've got to admit, it's a bit tough expanding on a character and story that I haven't touched in three years, so bear with me if I'm a bit rusty. Consider this scratching an itch that's persisted since 2007. It's about time. **

**Disclaimer (if you managed to get through that rather lengthy intro): As always, the world of **_**The Outsiders**_**, and even the basis for Marlee, belongs to S.E. Hinton. **

"We've got spirit, yes we do! We've got spirit, how 'bout you?" 

_I want to kill myself, yes I do! I want to kill myself, how 'bout you? _

From my spot in the middle of the pyramid, I forced myself to keep a maniacal grin pasted on my face. Above me, her knees digging into the small of my back, I could hear Adelaide, school spirit personified, chanting the words as though they were the mantra of a revered worship ritual.

I managed to get through the rest of the cheer through gritted teeth, even though my back was aching and the girl next to me didn't seem to have grasped the basic concept of deodorant. Finally Adelaide, head of our squad, ordered the collapse of the pyramid, and climbed gracefully to the ground.

"Practice is over," she announced. "Don't forget to wear your uniforms tomorrow. We've got to support our boys." She waved me over with her hand as the rest of the cheerleaders trooped over to the change rooms. Somewhat hesitantly, I made my way over to her.

Adelaide surveyed me critically. "I could feel you shaking, Marlee," she informed me.

Oh, no, not _shaking_. Heaven forbid that a cheerleader on Adelaide Valance's squad show an ounce of humanity. For about the thousandth time I asked myself why exactly I had let her bully me into trying out for cheerleading. The very thought of coming to practice made me want to rip my own hair out, strand by strand. Then I remembered: Adelaide had skyrocketed to the next tier of the high school hierarchy, and I was too much of a coward to be left behind, so I hitched my wagon to her rising star and the next thing I knew I was strutting around the school in a pleated skirt and school sweater.

But I held my tongue and smiled sweetly at Adelaide. "I'm sorry," I said, even though sorry was the last thing I felt. "It must be frightening, all the way at the top of the pyramid, relying on us underlings to hold you steady." Except I didn't say that second part.

Adelaide sighed. "Marlee, you're my best friend, but if you want to stay on the squad, sorry just doesn't cut it. You know I had to pull some strings to even get you a tryout so late in the season, but if you aren't going to give this your all and really commit to cheering, then I'll have no choice but to cut you."

I eyed her curiously, trying to read her expression. Would she really do that? I couldn't be sure, but I almost wished she would, just to end my misery. "You're right. I haven't been focusing on the cheers," I admitted, shifting my weight from foot to foot, a dead giveaway that a lie was coming. Adelaide didn't know my sure signs of deceit, though, and didn't notice. "I've just been distracted by stuff at home, and all the homework that's been piling up lately…" When all else fails, blame the workload. I'd learned that it's a fail-safe tactic with my parents, and was willing to bet that it'd fool Adelaide too.

I'd misjudged her, though. Apparently, when it came to cheerleading, everything else needed to be put aside until after practise. "We all have to make sacrifices, Marlee," she said, probably not intending to sound as insufferably self-righteous as she did. "But if you're not willing to make them…"

Oh, for crying out loud. I really didn't want to have to play this card, but she'd left me no choice. "Listen, Addy," I said, lowering my voice and meeting her eyes for maximum _poor-pitiful-me_ effect. "I know I need to focus more on cheerleading, but the truth is that deep down I'm still trying to cope with everything from last summer. It's…it's just hard sometimes." For something that started out as utter tripe, a surprising amount of truth somehow managed to creep in.

But it did the trick, and Adelaide's face softened. "Oh, Marlee," she said, voice gentler than usual. "You know I wouldn't actually kick you off the squad. Especially not after…" she let that thought trail off, but I knew what the end of the sentence would have been, of course. How many times in the past months had somebody started to say something to me, only to clam up at the last second, giving me a meaningful look instead?

"I know," I assured her. "It's fine. I'll be more alert for the game tomorrow, I promise. Now let's get out of here." Any type of clothing was preferable to my cheerleading uniform, and besides, I had an English paper due the next day that was calling my name.

…

"_Put it through! Put it through! Put it through for two!_"

About an hour after our basketball team finished thrashing our arch-rivals, that cheer still sounded mercilessly in my head. It was a favourite of Adelaide's, and it was easy for the crowd to pick up, but as soon as you'd heard it once, it remained entrenched in your brain for hours afterward until you just wanted to take a hammer to your skull.

I hadn't come to the post-game celebration party with the particular intention of drinking, but as the chant continued its perpetual loop in my mind, I decided the best remedy would be to distract myself with something, and the most readily available diversion was the free-flowing alcohol. So I grabbed a drink and downed it, and as I moved through the crowd trying to find Adelaide, someone passed me another.

"Marlee!" Adelaide cried, grabbing my arm and smiling at me sloppily. "You did so _great_ tonight!"

"Did I?" I asked distractedly, taking a long swig of my beer. "I thought I was still a bit shaky on the pyramid. You didn't notice?"

Adelaide's eyes widened, and she shook her head emphatically. "No! I didn't feel _anything_. I think tonight might have been our best night ever, except for when Debbie fell. Do you think people saw?" she asked worriedly, looking around as if to make sure that nobody knew that we were discussing this embarrassing gaffe.

I patted her arm comfortingly. "Adelaide, whatever mistakes people might have made were all overshadowed by you. You're an amazing captain."

Adelaide's eyes welled up with tears. "You're so _nice_, Marlee. You're so nice, and smart, and pretty. You know who you remind me of? My sister, Cherry. She's nice and smart and pretty too. And she's a cheerleader. Sometimes I feel like I have pressure to measure up to her, you know? Because she's so good at everything." She looked thoughtfully at her own drink for a moment before tipping it all down her throat. "This is _really_ good. I think I want another one." She moved to replace her now-empty drink, stumbling slightly into someone else and giggling. "Whoops!" she said, grabbing two cups and handing one to me. "Here, Marlee. And I want to make a toast," she added before I could take a sip.

I raised my cup toward her. When she got silly like this, it was best just to humour her. "Okay, Addy. What are we toasting?" I asked.

Adelaide had to think about this for a moment. "To you and me," she decided, hitting my cup with a bit too much force, causing some of her drink to slosh over. "We'll always be best friends, won't we?"

"And to cheerleading," I said, smirking slightly as Adelaide nodded reverently. We bumped our cups together again before taking a long draught. When I surfaced, Adelaide was smiling beatifically at me.

"I love you, Marlee," she informed me, apparently overcome by the need to express this. "Really. I do."

"Okay, Addy," I agreed, grinning at her. She was a lot more fun after she'd had a few drinks, I decided.

Adelaide opened her mouth to reply, but then she got distracted by something behind me. She tried to focus her eyes but seemed to find it a bit difficult. Shaking her head as if to clear it, she exclaimed, "Wesley!" She waved enthusiastically and ducked around me, weaving through the crowd to reach her semi-boyfriend.

Feeling suddenly alone, even in the packed living room, I slunk over to one of the walls and did some people watching. Blaring music and raucous laughter filled my ears as I studied the various faces that passed me. The crowd was mostly composed of basketball players, cheerleaders and various other athletes and their girlfriends. I could have sworn I caught a glimpse of the infamous Two-Bit Mathews somewhere in the knot of teenagers, but he was gone so fast I figured I must've been wrong. Besides, by that point I'd kind of lost track of how many drinks I'd had and things were starting to look a little blurry.

However, in the little experience I'd had with these parties, I'd come to realize that they were excellent opportunities for self-reflection. Maybe it was the beer clouding my powers of logic, but I'd recently discovered that, in a way, me drinking myself into oblivion was an exercise in self-loathing. When I first arrived after the game, I resisted that first drink. But eventually, boredom combined with self-consciousness forced me to succumb, and while I hated every sip of that first beer, slowly, as I nursed my second and third, the guilt faded away into the background. It always came back again in the morning, but the night was mine to forget.

What happened next was a bit of a blur. I happened to glance at my watch and in a panic realized that it was two in the morning and my parents had no idea where I was. I'd lost track of Adelaide ages ago, so I swallowed back waves of nausea and plunged into the throng of bodies, pushing my way toward the front door. I'd nearly made a clean break of it when I bumped into someone tall, blocking my exit.

"Marlene?" he said, sounding surprised. Blearily I glanced up at his face, my mouth falling open in surprise. Big mistake.

"Hey, Ponyboy," I said, my voice weirdly high and a bit slurry, even to my ears.

Then I promptly threw up on his shoes.


End file.
